


Change of Faith

by easybakedoodles (Madrugada98)



Series: Tristan Amell: Bound to Fall Again [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Andrastians, M/M, questioning faith, talking about darkspawn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-03-25 04:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13826103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madrugada98/pseuds/easybakedoodles
Summary: In one of his lowest moments, Tristan finally looks to Anders for help and drops the pretenses.





	1. Chapter 1

     “I don’t know if I can be Andrastian anymore,” The Warden-Commander said. On the bench next to him, his second in command gave him a critical look borne from confusion.

     “And why would that be?” Anders asked bluntly. At least what was considered blunt between the two men. Neither had shared deeply philosophical thoughts of this kind before, and Anders was desperate for any chance to learn his Commander better. They were sitting during a lull during the assault on Amaranthine, praying that the darkspawn had not already destroyed Vigil’s Keep. Though they sat a respectful distance apart to dissuade any other church go-ers prying eyes, Anders nudged his Commander’s knee with his own to display his support.

     The Warden Commander’s face was turned upward, staring openly at the stain glass window depicting Andraste, the colored light falling gently on his cheekbones.

     “Why would He do this to His children? Why allow such terrible acts? All because a few of us thought ourselves so mighty that we deserved to see his throne? Why allow the darkspawn to continue like this? To evolve into such abominations, capable of rational thought past their own corruption? What’s the point aside from further torture? Those monsters were once our brothers and sisters,” Tristan said, his face contorting with pain as he dropped his head into his palms. Amongst the praying and terrified citizens of Amaranthine, if not for his armor, he would have blended in with them easily, the pain and fear emanating off of him.

     “Warden-Commander,” Anders said, leaning closer, trying to comfort him.

     “Don’t call me that, please Anders, I don’t deserve it,” Tristan said, stiffening under Anders’ hand. Anders paused the gentle motions for a second, there had been a barrier between the two of them ever since their encounter with the Templars trying to recapture Anders, mainly Anders’ own fault, but he hoped he could still mend things.

     “Amell,” Anders said, “You can’t blame yourself for what’s happened. None of us could have known how large the darkspawn’s numbers had gotten. Or, frankly, that they’d gotten bloody smart enough to split up and attack both the Keep and Amaranthine at the same time.” He finished, shrugging his shoulders.

     “I’m supposed to protect these people Anders. I promised to put an end to the darkspawn attacks. They trusted me,” Tristan said, finally lifting his head.

     “Whether you’re supposed to do anything other than keep yourself alive is an argument for another day, Amell. How long have you been a Warden? Just over a year and a half? Who’s really prepared you for this role? Last I saw you, you were barely a junior enchanter in the Circle.

     Then the whole order you got conscripted into, for a ridiculous reason I might add, all got murdered! The only other person who knew what you were going through, just barely your senior, and yet he begs that you take the lead. Which you do, with amazing skill and ability, despite being conditioned your entire life to fear your own power and listen to those older than you for everything. You saved the country, Amell! It’s a matter of scope and looking at this within the frame of the fact that the last two years of your life has been just stress upon stress, you’ve been doing smashingly. Dealing with these things so far out of your control and yet still making time for all of us? You’re astounding Amell,” Anders finished, somewhat surprised by his own vigor.

     “Me? I just did what anyone would do. In Denerim the city had been evacuated as best as it could. There weren’t so many civilians depending on us” Tristan said, looking away, a blush rising in his cheeks. “If any of us is astounding, it’s you for still being here. You could have left whenever, y’know? I just wanted to help keep you from going back to the Circle. You deserve to see the world, go wherever you want, feel the rain on your face,” he said, shocking Anders.

     “I can’t believe you remembered that little rant of mine,” Anders said, looking dazed at Amell.

     “I mean of course I remembered, you were the most intelligent and breathtaking person at the Circle. I always wanted to listen to you. I may have tried being a good Andrastian and believed in the Chant, but if there was anything I knew to be more true than that, it was you,” Amell admitted.

     There was a moment of silence between the two men as Anders absorbed that information and Amell became extremely mortified, realizing what he said.

     “Tristan, I don’t know if this is because I’m flattered, or because we’re in a situation where we might die at any moment, or because I’m realizing how much I admire you, but I’d really like to kiss you if that’s alright?” Anders asked, only slightly nervous, trying to not flirt terribly and ruin the moment.

     “If I had to do a terrible ritual before I thought I was going to die last time, I deserve to have one kiss with the person I’ve had feelings for since I was seventeen,” Tristan said, face flushed completely red, even all the way up to the tips of his ears.

     “Seventeen? Really now?” Anders asked, teasing.

     “Shut up and kiss me before the darkspawn attack,” Tristan grumbled, to which Anders happily complied. Sadly, before Anders could initiate anything more than just a kiss, Nathaniel and Oghren ran towards them, Oghren alerting them to their presence by whooping very loudly. Nathaniel had a slight blush on his face as he told the Warden-Commander that they had found one talking darkspawn near the gates of Amaranthine.

     Tristan ordered the Wardens to prepare themselves, and shooed away Oghren who very loudly told the two men that he’d been waiting for them to stop dancing around each other like “two broncos with their heads in each others asses” for ages. Finally, Anders and Tristan had one last moment together.

     “We’ll talk again about whatever this might be once the darkspawn are dealt with, I promise,” Tristan said, gripping Anders’ hand tightly.

     “You know I’m going to hold you to that Warden-Commander,” Anders said with a wink, before letting go of his hand and turning to join Velanna and Nathaniel, while Tristan took one last look at the altar to Andraste, with its stained glass and holy aura. Oghren wandered back over, to make sure his Commander was ready to go.

     “It doesn’t matter if the Maker or if Andraste were ever real. I never fought for them, I always fought for those I love, my friends, and those who couldn’t fight for themselves. As long as those people were still around, they are the ones who matter,” Tristan said.

     “Hell I could’a told you that one Warden. What, you think we really fought for the literal stone back in Orzammar? Now c’mon, I got a lil nugget to go home to,” Oghren said, slapping Tristan on his lower back.


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t know if I can be Andrastian anymore,” Anders said, tear tracks still dried on his face. On the crate next to him, his lover gave him a look borne of confusion and pity.

“And why would that be?” he asked gently, remembering their conversation from long before. Both had spoken of far more intimate topics since, but Tristan still tread lightly. Tonight was not a night for levity. Though neither of them did the deed, Lewis Hawke laid dead. Slain by his own brother for having blown up the Chantry. The man had been courted by demons and spirits alike, and one spirit of Justice driven too far by his time in the physical world had managed to convince the oldest Hawke to commit this travesty. Tristan wrapped his arm around Anders’ waist to show support and allow Anders something to lean back on.

Anders’ face was turned upwards, staring openly at the blood red sky over Kirkwall, the ashes from the Chantry raining down to land on his nose and everything else.

“Why would He do this to His children? Why allow such terrible acts? All because one of us thought himself so mighty? A whole city is burning, with thousands of lives on the line. For what? Justice? Vengeance? If I believed Lewis actually acted with the hope of saving the mages trapped in Meredith’s grip maybe this would be justified, but having known the man, it was all to save his own hide. And yet, despite his efforts, he’s still dead,” Anders lamented. Amongst the ash and burning rubble that was the remains of Kirkwall’s Chantry, he looked out of place in the city that was rapidly becoming deserted. 

“Anders, my darling,” Tristan said, wrapping his arm around his lovers waist to comfort him.

“Please, Tristan just, let me have this moment. I am partly responsible, believing that Lewis had actually found a way to release Justice, rather than knowing it was futile,” Anders said, doing his best to not start sobbing again. Tristan knew that these last few years in Kirkwall had been very stressful for the mage. Between taking care of the Hawke twins and running the clinic down in Darktown, there hadn’t been many opportunities for him to relax at all. 

“Anders, you can’t blame yourself for what’s happened. None of us could have truly known his actual plans. For all of our formal training, no one in the Circles even dares to think about what happens when a mage and a spirit co-exist in one body for an extended period of time. The Chantry just deems it heresy and all talk of it banned,” Tristan said, rubbing his hand across Anders’ shoulders to try and relax him.

“I was supposed to take care of them, I promised Leandra that her children would come to no harm. She trusted me,” Anders said, turning to look at Tristan.

“An incredible man once told me that “being supposed” to do anything other than keep yourself alive was an argument for another day. However it’s still true. Besides, how long have you been a healer? Almost ten years? You’ve lost patients before. Death comes for us all and you can’t always stop it, no matter how much you try. 

Lewis Hawke and Justice weren’t your responsibility. They both made their own choices, trying to fight for something they believed in.  As much as they were in charge of their own destiny, and prepared for those consequences, so too should have the rest of us been looking out for the lie they told us all. You can’t save someone so set on damning themselves, Anders. You had an entire life outside of dealing with Lewis’ shit. You’ve been running an entire clinic almost all on your own! I know Bethany and I help out but in comparison to this one death that you couldn’t have prevented? You’ve saved far more. So many more. You can’t let this get in the way of your ability to save more. You’re breathtaking and inspiring Anders,” Tristan said solemnly. So confident and assured in how much he admired his lover.

“Me? I’m just a healer, it’s what I was trained to do,” Anders said, smiling a tiny bit for his lover. “If anyone is to be inspiring, its you for somehow keeping all of our asses out of the fire and still trying to cheer me up during all of this,” Anders said.

“Of course darling, I told you all those year ago you deserved to feel the rain on your face, that doesn’t mean I want you to make it rain,” Tristan said, with a slight elbow to Anders’ side. Anders could only groan in response at the awful and cheesy reference.

There was a moment of silence between the two men as they finally looked around, pulling themselves out of the little bubble that had just been the two of them.

“Anders, I don’t know if this is because we’re in a situation where we might die at any moment, or because I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, or because out of all the terrible things to happen today, I might as well take this chance. Anders, if we make it out of Kirkwall, will you marry me?” Tristan asked, more than slightly nervous, looking at Anders with a blush that soon began taking over most of his face.

“If you were going to make me wait ten more years in another city before asking me, I would have left you. And you’re lucky that you managed to ask before I could! Yes, yes, of course!” Anders said, beginning to laugh from excitement.

“Ten more years? You really think I wouldn’t have had the courage sooner?” Tristan asked, teasing.

“You hadn’t asked me before now!” Anders joked back, grabbing Tristan’s armor and pulling him in for a kiss. Before they got any further than a few kisses, Carver cleared his throat loudly to get the two mages attention. When they broke away they saw both Hawkes and Merrill looking at them. Two out of the three looked delighted while one looked mostly disgruntled, as was his usual state.

“We’re always getting interrupted aren’t we?” Anders said with a shrug. Before Merrill could excitedly ask when the wedding was to be, Carver told them that they would be moving out soon, as Lewis’ body had finished burning on the makeshift pyre. Bethany informed them that the Circle mages had moved to a safer location, all that was left to do was get them on the fastest ships out of Kirkwall that Isabela had managed to round up.

“You better believe we’ll be talking about this again, once the mages are safely out of Kirkwall and away from Meredith,” Anders said, gripping Tristan’s hand tightly.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else, love,” Tristan said with a smile, before kissing Anders hand and letting it drop so that he could follow his cousins to go make preparations and find a route out of the city. Anders took one last look at the remains of the Chantry in the distance, as Merrill came up beside him to check on him.

“Whatever the Chantry believed in, or said they believed in, they never were good at delivering the right message. Equality and justice for all and such. Lewis may have been wrong about many things, but how he felt about the Chantry was right. They don’t actually care about all of us, so we have to care about each other. Otherwise there will never be peace,” Anders said thoughtfully.

“It's true we have to care for one another. However, I don’t think Lewis was right about the Creators either. After all this time, it’s hard for the Dalish to still believe in them, for him to think that it was just a matter of believing in the right set of gods to make the world right. It doesn’t work. We, as people living together, with and around each other, have to do better. And we will,” Merrill said, holding out her hand for Anders to take. He gave her hand a strong squeeze before letting go, the both of them looking forward to a better day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I know this is just kind of a mirror of the first chapter but it felt really important to write. Come talk to me @youngizzik on tumblr if you have any questions about Tristan or any of my other Dragon Age ocs!


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